


Nobody Chooses Alone

by likehandlingroses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 20:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18080375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likehandlingroses/pseuds/likehandlingroses
Summary: In death, Ariana, Regulus, Lily, and Fred are each faced with a decision: to move on, or walk the earth as a spirit? Everyone's final choice is made differently, driven by different motives, hopes, and fears. But one thing remains the same: nobody chooses alone.





	Nobody Chooses Alone

The ground was unsteady, but Ariana was used to the feeling. If she kept her eyes shut tight and breathed like Aberforth had taught her, the room would stop moving. She was in her bed, she was safe. Everything would be fine. 

Only it didn’t seem to be working this time...and anyway, the wobbling wasn’t the same as usual. It was less shaky, less frantic. If anything, it reminded her of the way the water from her bath would ebb and flow across her skin, its rhythm steady and forceful. 

She was in water, Ariana thought with a jolt, her eyes opening in horror. Sure enough, the room was rocking back and forth, just a little. You could only tell if you watched the picture on the far wall, how its frame tilted to one side, then the other. 

Ariana kept breathing, as deep and as slow and as evenly as she could, trying not to scream. She’d never been here before, this wasn’t anywhere in their house.  Aberforth wouldn’t have taken her anywhere else--she _ couldn’t _ go anywhere else. Not ever. And that was alright, so long as she had her brothers with her. 

She opened her mouth to call out for them, but a sudden sense of dread stopped her. She’d been so upset, so afraid...they’d been shouting so terribly, so awfully...and she couldn’t control it, no matter hard she tried…

What if she’d killed them? All of them, and they’d taken her away, to this room that sat on water? Was she out to sea, far away from everyone else? Aberforth had told her there was a prison on an island...but Ariana had thought islands were made of sturdier stuff that this. 

“You aren’t alone.”

Ariana jumped to her feet, staring wide-eyed at the doorway, where Albus had suddenly appeared. She hadn’t heard his footsteps. She hadn’t heard anything, she realized, since she’d woken up. Only now did she hear the creaks in the walls, the sound of birds in the distance. Water, lapping at the edges of the room. 

“Where are we?” she asked.

“I’m not exactly sure,” Albus said, a smiling crossing his face. “It’s your place, you see. I’m just visiting.”

“My place?” Ariana murmured, standing up unsteadily and approaching Albus. “But this isn’t home...home is my place, it’s always been my…”

The rocking of the room caused her to trip, and Albus caught her up in his arms. 

“Albus, take me home,” she begged him, staring imploringly at those eyes that sometimes seemed to look right through her. “I don’t like these...these floors that move, I don’t want to be on the water, I don’t want... _ why _ did you take me here?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said, helping her back on her feet, though his hands remained on her shoulders, steadying her. “You must believe me.”

“What are you talking about? Where’s Ab? And that--that boy?”

But Albus only shook his head. 

“I’m sorry, Ariana. They’re not here.”

He’d taken her away, Ariana realized. He hadn’t wanted to stay at home and take care of her, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to leave.

“But, I have to go back, Albus! You have to take me back. Please!”

He looked at her seriously, over his glasses, and Ariana suddenly realized there were lines about his eyes that she’d never seen before. His hair was turning grey, too. Just a little. Just enough. 

“Is that what you want?” he asked. 

“Yes, of course it is!” Ariana exclaimed, though she was no longer sure if it was possible. How long had she been asleep? 

“I’ll take you back, if that's what you wish,” he said. “But it will be different. I don’t think you’ll like it much, Ariana.”

Ariana’s heart was thudding in her chest, and she waited for Albus to explain. He looked pale, almost sick. 

“I’m not sure how to explain, how to say it...you assume people know these things...listen: you don’t have to go back now, you see?” he continued. “You can go on, and you never need to worry about hurting yourself or anyone else. Because you’re not sick here. You won’t ever be afraid; you won’t ever be alone. You can go on.”

Ariana realized, then, what must have happened. They’d talked about Mother that way, when she’d died. She’d gone on, and the only way she could come back was as a ghost. 

It had almost seemed to Ariana that the only thing lonelier than being a prisoner was being a ghost. You never got over being a ghost. 

“But what about Ab?” she asked. 

“He’ll be there,” Albus said. “Everyone will, someday.”

Ariana took another deep breath, settling herself as best she could. 

“You’ll be there?” she whispered. 

“Of course I will,” Albus said, tears in his eyes. And once again, the room on the water went silent before disappearing entirely. 

* * *

Regulus sat up, choking, his lungs coughing up salt water. Dazed, he looked around with a sudden burst of joy.

He was on land. On the shore, right on the edge of a beach, looking out at the sunrise.

Kreacher must have done it, he must have a found a way. And all Regulus had to do was apparate back home, and--

\--but try as he might, he couldn’t apparate an inch in front of where he sat. And as he looked around, his breath still coming in short, ragged bursts, he realized the waves weren’t making any noise as they crashed up on the shore. 

Feeling dizzy, terrified in a way he’d never been before, Regulus scrambled to his feet.

He’d never been to this beach before. And there certainly was no sign of any cave on the horizon. This wasn’t any place he’d seen in his life. 

“Figured it out, have you?” a voice croaked behind him, and Regulus tripped and fell into the sand at the sudden rush of sound that came upon the scene. The seagulls, the waves, the whip and whistle of the wind.

He stared up at the approaching figure: a pale, lifeless, skeletal form, dress in rags, a sneer on his face. Regulus held his arms up to his face as if to protect himself, and the figure gave a barking laugh.

“Poor Reg...still a coward at heart.”  

Regulus lowered his arms. 

It couldn’t be Sirius. And yet, if Regulus looked closely enough, if he ignored the waxy skin and matted hair, he could see his brother’s grey, shining eyes, and the way one side of his mouth turned up higher than the other when he grinned. And no one else but Sirius called him Reg. 

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” he said breathlessly.

“Well, we’ve all known that for ages,” Sirius said, kneeling down to join him in the sand. 

“What happened to you?”

Sirius shook his head. “Not really at liberty to discuss it. All I can say is you’re dead before it happens, so it’s no concern of yours.”

“I’m dead?”

“You’re clever, aren’t you?” Sirius snarked. “Yes, unfortunately you didn’t survive being dragged underwater by the undead.”

“But...you aren’t dead yet. Are you?”

Sirius gave him a peculiar look, his sunken eyes turning almost soft. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, of course it does. Mother wouldn’t be able to bear it if--”

“--oh, shut up about Mother,” Sirius said, staring off into the horizon, his jaw set. 

“I won’t!” Regulus exclaimed. “Now tell me what’s going on!”

“You have to choose,” Sirius said. “Do you want to go back, or do you want to go on?”

Regulus blinked. “I’m choosing right now?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Merlin, you really are dense. I just said--”

“--I know, but I...I thought that was a sort of...in the moment choice. And this seems to be a whole ordeal. And you’re here, for some reason.”

“I’m _ so _ sorry to be taking up so much of your eternity,” Sirius drawled. 

Regulus sat back on his hands, sticking his feet out so the tide reached his toes.

“If I come back as a ghost, I can help Kreacher with the locket. I can tell other people what’s happened. He couldn’t stop me. I’d already be dead.”

Sirius nodded. “That’s true.”

Try as he might, Regulus couldn’t read Sirius’s expression. “Would you go back?”

Sirius laughed. “Me? No, of course not.”

“Even if you could do something to help other people, even if you knew something no one else did?”

Sirius shrugged. “No one’s that special, Reg. There’s billions and billions of people. With any luck, there’ll be billions and billions more. Someone else can do it. You’ve finished your part.”

In his heart, Regulus knew Sirius was right, that he was displaying his usual irritating habit of spewing wisdom he himself would never have listened to. 

“But I only just started,” he said, knowing how petulant he sounded. “It was a waste. All of my life was... _ stupid _ .”

“Hey,” Sirius said, sitting up straighter and looking Regulus in the eye. “You did the right thing. You did the brave thing. And it will matter, someday. You have to think about more than just you. Let it be finished.” 

Regulus stared his brother, who had never spoken to him with such sincerity before. 

“Will you know what I was trying to do?” he murmured. “Or will you think I…”

He broke off, unable to contemplate a world in which his brother always held him in contempt, even in death. He’d always imagined there’d be time, there’d be a place...

“It’s bigger than that,” Sirius said, his voice low. “I know right now, don’t I? I’ll know again, don’t you think?”

He smiled again, that same lopsided smile. And the wind stopped. 

 

* * *

Lily was falling, but not from very high up and not especially fast. The air was filled with the scent of spring flowers, like the ones that had grown around her childhood home. She landed on her bare feet and tilted her head up to the sky, which had hardly a cloud in it.

She knew she was dead. She’d been ready for it. 

No, not ready. No one was ever ready. Braced. That was the word. She’d been braced for it. 

But the fall hadn’t been so bad, all things considered. And it had taken right back to her favorite park. The swing she’d just jumped off of was still moving back and forth, though without its familiar creak. 

In fact, nothing in the park seemed to making any sound at all. It was eerie, almost frightful, and Lily’s stomach turned at the thought of spending eternity in this solitary, noiseless place.

“Are you planning on keeping your mouth open like a fish forever?” 

Lily gasped at the voice. 

“Tuney?”

The birds had started singing, but Lily didn’t care. Sitting on a park bench that had been empty only a moment ago, Lily was sure of it, was Petunia.

She was older, much older. Lily guessed she must be at least seventy, though she hadn’t lost an ounce of her hawkish stare.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Lily said, hurrying to sit next to her sister. “I was so worried I’d be alone, I didn’t know what to do, I--”

“--this isn’t the place you’re looking for,” Petunia said shortly. “It’s over there.”

She gestured vaguely to a shaded area in the distance. Lily frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Petunia raised her eyebrows. “Well, I thought you would know. It is  _ your kind’s  _ tradition, after all. Ghosts and all that.”

“Oh. You mean, I choose here whether to become a ghost or not?” 

“I assume so,” Petunia sniffed. 

“But...why are you here?”

Petunia gave a world-weary sigh, her lips pursing. “Question after question...I don’t have any answers for you. This has nothing to do with me. It’s your affair entirely, and once again, I’m asked to play part in your nonsense _. _ ” 

Lily was suddenly quite glad there was another place she could look forward to. She loved her sister, more than anything. She always would. But one person could love with everything they had, and it would never be enough to mend what was broken. She stood up, awkwardly, unsure of what to say before leaving. 

“Well, I’ll be going, then,” she muttered. 

“I must say,” Petunia cut in before Lily had taken more than a few steps. “I would certainly think twice about leaving  _ my  _ Dudders all on his own.”

Lily turned on her heel, her face flushing. Petunia gave a sanctimonious smirk at the reaction. 

“Coming back as a ghost won’t help Harry,” Lily insisted. “It would be selfish, don’t you see that? I’m dead. I’ll always be dead. And he needs to accept that as best he can. My hanging around will make it worse.”

“If you say so,” Petunia sighed, looking down at her nails disinterestedly. “I wouldn’t know. There weren’t any ghosts at my school.”

It didn’t matter how old she lived to be, Lily realized in a burst of grief. Petunia would always be that bitter, lonely child, desperate for a piece of a gift Lily couldn’t share with her. 

“I’m sorry we had to take different paths,” Lily said, closing her eyes in pain. “It’s no one’s fault. Not yours or mine. But peace is your choice, Tuney. I hope you make it.”

Petunia opened her mouth to reply, but there was nothing more for her to say. The world had gone entirely still again. The shaded area seemed to come up under Lily’s feet without her moving, and the park was gone. 

 

* * *

“Fred!” The echoey voice was all around, tossing him up and down with a force that Fred was sure was going to make him sick. “Wake  _ up _ !”

It wasn’t the voice that was shaking him, Fred realized, as he felt something solid under his back. It was hands. 

The explosion. 

“I’m fine, Perce,” he managed, opening his eyes. “I’m...Percy?”

For the eyes that stared back at him were those of a child. Though still bespectacled and wearing a look of adult concern, the Percy looming over him couldn’t be more than ten years old. 

“Bloody hell, I hit my head hard…” Fred said, blinking rapidly. But there was still something wrong. 

“You’re dead, actually,” Percy said matter-of-factly. 

“What?” Fred sat up so quickly, Percy nearly tumbled off of the bed. Fred’s bed, in Fred’s old room. 

They were at The Burrow, and something was terribly wrong.

“I can’t be,” he stammered. 

“Are you saying I’m lying?” Percy said, eyes narrowed. 

“No, I’m saying being with a eight-year old Percy isn’t exactly heaven,” Fred retorted. “And it’s not quite bad enough to be hell.”

He chuckled, but Percy only blinked. 

“This is just the choosing space,” he said. “So you can go back the way you came--you’ll be a ghost, of course. Or you can go the other way.”

Fred almost laughed at how serious Percy looked, before being hit with the sobering realization that the situation really wasn’t anything to laugh about. 

“So why are you here?”

“Because nobody chooses alone,” Percy replied.

“Fair enough,” Fred said, getting out of bed and stretching his arms. “Well, I’m not coming back as a ghost. Where do I go for up and out?” 

He clambered towards the doorway, but Percy raced in front of him, his slight figure standing bull-like under the doorframe. 

“Wait!” he shouted. “This is a very big decision.”

“Not really,” Fred shrugged, moving Percy out of the way. “Ghosts are the coward’s way out.”

He hurried down the stairs, trying to ignore the way the house smelled of his mother’s cooking, how he could almost hear Bill and Charlie playing in the yard.

“Not always!” Percy protested, tripping down the stairs to keep up. “Did you know--”

“--Percy, I really don’t need a history lesson,” Fred said, stopping on the landing. “Show me the door.”

Percy sighed. 

“Okay...but if you don’t like it up there, it isn’t my fault!” he said, waving his hand in the air like Mum did when she was washing her hands of something. 

“Got it…” Fred said with a smile. 

As he moved to follow Percy, a terrible noise came from behind him. Someone screaming, crying out in pain. Fred turned to it instinctively, his blood running cold. 

“What’s that noise?” he said, stopping short at the front door. The cry was louder, now. So loud Fred couldn’t imagine how he’d gone so long without hearing it. 

“Oh, that’s just the other door,” Percy said, unconcerned. “The one you  _ didn’t  _ want to see.”

Fred stood rooted to the spot.  

“Is that...you?” he finally whispered, his head only half-turned to Percy. 

“Probably,” he said. “I  _ am _ the one who finds you dead. It’s dreadful.”

“It’s not stopping,” Fred murmured, one hand reaching out to touch the wood of the door. It was humming against his skin, the vibrations drumming into his brain. And still, the screaming continued. 

“It won’t until you choose,” Percy said. 

Fred took his hand off the door, then put it back on the handle for the briefest moment before pulling it away again. He shoved it into his pocket, clenching it into a fist. 

He had to choose. He had to move back down the hallway. 

But how could he do that when one turn of a doorknob might stop his brother’s pain?

“Merlin, I wish it would end,” he muttered. 

“I told you, it won’t stop until—”

“--I know!” Fred shouted, whirling around to face the Percy who didn’t seem to care that his own life was falling apart as they spoke. “Why are you here, anyway? I know, I know!! No one chooses alone, okay. But why you?”

Percy’s eyes were wide with fear, and for the first time Fred realized how much bigger he was than this Percy. 

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice defiant even as it shook. “I didn’t pick me, you did.”

“Well, why in the hell would I have done that?” Fred growled, looking back at the door. 

“Fred?” Percy said, more softly than Fred was used to hearing him speak. “If you know what you want to do, you should do it. That’s what I think, anyway.”

“Yeah?” Fred turned around, crouching down so he was at eye level with his brother. “You’re pretty smart, so it’s probably good advice.”

He tried to smile, but the tears wouldn’t let him. 

“Don’t cry!” Percy rushed forward, throwing his arms about Fred’s neck. 

“I’m fine,” Fred said, trying to push him off. 

"Hey!” Percy said, raising his chin up. “I’m still the big brother, okay? Always will be, can’t take it back!” 

Fred shoved him playfully before standing up. 

“Alright, no need to rub in it…” 

He nearly glanced at the door again, but thought better of it. 

“Will you go through with me, if I go the other way?”

Percy’s brow furrowed. 

“Well, I can’t  _ exactly  _ say. But I’ll walk with you through the door, and I suppose we’ll see.”

Fred nodded. He couldn’t expect to know everything, after all. 

“I’m sorry I’m leaving you,” he said. “I really am.”

“That’s alright,” Percy said. 

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

Fred looked back at the door one final time, knowing he wouldn’t be tempted again. There was just one more person he had to speak to before leaving. 

“I wouldn’t go on if you hadn’t said it was okay,” he said, trying to ignore the fact that his words did nothing to lessen the sound of grief coming through the door. “I love you, Perce. Please...just be okay.” 

Percy waited for him to turn back around before reaching out a hand. 

“Come on,” he said. “It’ll get easier once you’re farther away.” 

As they walked down the hall, hand-in-hand, the screaming stopped. Then the clock Fred hadn’t even realized was ticking went silent. In another instant, the whole house was swallowed up, and Fred couldn’t tell if Percy’s hand was still in his. 


End file.
